Her
by betharika
Summary: Our most beloved, Draco met the innocent looking yet cold girl, Hermione. Follow the journey of Draco and Hermione and found out when 'I want to be her' changed into 'I want to know her' to 'I want her' eventually. AU/Pureblood Hermione.
1. Chapter 1

**Hiyaaa... First I am not abandoning my twilight story 'Learn to Feel', this plot line just been hanging around and insist to be published since long time ago, so I couldn't very well ignored the wailing of abandoned plot line in my head, could I? Second this is not the usual Pureblood Hermione, Draco's childhood friend, fall in love with each other become a dark couple and conquer the wizarding world, nope, just stay with me and found out how my pairing turned out to be. Aaaannndd... This is obviously AU and I did try to stay as canon as possible but I will intentionally change little details so it will support my story better. Enjoy!**

**I almost forgot ... I obviously own Harry Potter...**

** at the night time when I was peacefully asleep. lol XD**

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**Chapter 1**

When you're five, they often ask you, '_what __do__ you want to be'_. Then you would answer a dragon, phoenix, seer, vampire, or like me, internationally famous quidditch player, a seeker if you really insist to know.

But then again, we would never be forever five. The time when you roll around in a puddle of mud and get nothing but a scowl and few minutes of parental… _advice_ – or in my case couple hours of lecturing and days of punishment; the time when you could ask for extra play time and rest and get cupcake in the way. But all that freedom ceases when your body starts to get bigger, your legs lengthen, and finally you can reach for your favorite biscuits.

Enough about you, the story was never talking about you anyway. So _'we'_ and _'you'_ will retire from now on and be replaced by _'I'_ and a couple times of _'my'_.

So to be honest I was never been asked such a thing, because really every single Malfoy's destiny is decided by their patriarch, instead I was asked what I _wanted_. Well to be much more honest than usual, I was never asked what I wanted, I told them, whether they asked or not. A normal 5 year old wizard would want and get chocolate frogs, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, toy broomstick and maybe a couple of ice cream's along the way, but since I've never been and would never be a normal 5 year old wizard, I wanted a wand, the first copy of Hogwarts history, the whole magical prank in zonko's (not that I could use it in manor, it would be the quickest way to suicide), and my most memorable was when I insist to have a real racing broomstick. I've even ordered as much as a friend; not the tall, gloomy, scary looking people that always come every Christmas and New Year's ball. Not the sickeningly sweet old ladies that always hover around telling me how handsome I am; I mean _the whole world_ knows how good looking I am without them screeching it all the time.

I wanted a real bunch of friends, a bunch of boys like me to boast my new quidditch field and show my collections of dragon miniature.

The only response I got from mother was, "Do not ever let your father hear you say such a trivial thing." That is the moment I learned that _'there's __no__ such thing __as__ friend for a Malfoy'_ my very first lesson as the heir of Malfoy Empire. Still I wanted to pretend that I had a lot of lackeys, as my father called them, to play with.

Of course I still got what I wanted; my last name after all is Malfoy.

That day Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle came strutting through the manor asking if they could have another of Dobby's special cupcake, were the first time I laid my eyes on them. It was summer on my sixth birthday; the Malfoy Manor was having a big birthday party for me or rather a big gathering party for my father's company or whatever work he was dealing with. There were a lot of adults and much less children than I would like, but still I found them. It's hard for them to not be found really, with their gigantic body and heavy footfalls. They were standing next to each other looking awkward with a pile of food in their fat hands. They even didn't know that I was the birthday boy, oh my bad, they didn't even know _what _the party for was. I didn't blame them, with all the adults and heavy talk; they would never know that it was a birthday party, let alone _my_ birthday party.

After another torturing hour of old ladies and suspicious looking men, I was permitted to go enjoy the day.

After that Crabbe and Goyle started to come regularly along with their father and sometimes alone. Before them, my day had simply been chasing Dobby around on my feet or sometimes on my toy broomstick. But then, my day was me chasing Dobby with my toy broomstick and them with their mouth full of food. Not much changed as you can see, but still the slightest change from my usual monotone life was welcomed.

After the two of them, came Parkinson. Pansy Parkinson. The very first girl that I welcomed into my game of chasing the house elf, not that she was really chasing, mostly she would settle down in some random point of the manor and wait for us to find her hiding place, with the house elf and at the end of the day she would pick the winner which as you would probably guessed already, was always me.

Before her, my day was simply me, Vincent and Gregory putting fire on the House Elf's clothes, a rag-like dress that reached their knee with a little Malfoy crest. After her, my day was me, Vincent and Gregory racing to her place with a begging House Elf hot on our tail with possibly fire on it clothes. Even though she was not my favorite choice of companion, she was good for my overly high vanity, so I kept her.

Not long after that, _she_ came. That day was an unusual day, I could tell that. Because it was almost noon and none of my friends were showing up. It was almost the time for lunch, and usually Gregory would instantly stop whatever he was doing and paraded along with Vincent to my room to eat lunch and Pansy would be bubbling about how boring boy's game were and hope that I would someday play with her and her doll. But not that day, that day I was lazily zooming around with my toy broomstick (mother insisted that I was not allowed to have the real one until I was 10) when the House Elf approached me anxiously telling me that I was needed by my mother in my room.

She dressed me personally and I could see the tension on her jaw as she combed my hair and told me, "There will be special guests coming for lunch". After that she sighed, I was taken back, Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy never sighed. My mother was all about perfect composure and calm.

"Who is it, mother?"

My mother's cold fingers caress my cheek down to my chin, "One of your father's very old friends and their family."

"From work?" My mother nodded and left me without any other explanation. I was used to this by now, my parents would never tell me anything more than the absolute essentials which left me very little. I waited in my room about fifteen minutes before I was called to the parlor.

I could hear their voices before I saw them. A booming male laugh, come next a chirping voicing all muttering 'thank yous' to my parents much like the old ladies at my party, and a shockingly smooth, shooting voice of giggles. I had never known that giggles could be counted as smooth and shooting. I leaned my head on the door trying to hear more of the conversations.

"Milk, please, Mrs. Malfoy." Said the shooting voice. It had a cold edge, much like my fathers. Whose voice was it? I had never been able to sound like my father yet this stranger successfully imitate his cold drawl. I knocked three times before I opened the door that led me to her and her parent.

Like all the other rooms in the manor, the parlor was richly decorated with wooden planks, blue tapestries and silver lining on the ceiling, mother was against green, "it's sickeningly Slytherin don't you think, darling? I want to have my guests feel at home not at Hogwarts."

My gaze landed on the girl, she was smiling at whatever my mother said but my fathers' subtle enough cough snapped me out of staring land and back to Malfoy Manor. He nodded a little for me to go sit and greet the 'special guests'.

"And this is my son, Draco."

I nodded to a aristocratic looking man with deep brown curly hair who nodded back and smiled, an inhumanly beautiful woman with straight long blonde hair that turn golden under the sun's rays, and a girl my age with similar golden brown hair and chocolate-like eyes.

"This is Mr. and Mrs. Granger and of course Hermione Granger." There was no doubt my father favored the Hermione girl from the mere way his tone lightened as he mentioned her name, and the fact he _smil__ed_ at her, not the usual Malfoy's smirk he was used to throw at me.

"How do you do?" I said a little bit squeaky. That earned me a glare from my father obviously and a we'll-talk-about-this-later look from my mother.

"He's so adorable, Cissy. Not so surprising with you as the mother and our infamous Lucius." Mrs. Granger dramatically sighed and looked at her daughter like if she could give her daughter away in exchange for me. All the icy tension that had presented itself when I stepped through the door melted away when everyone was drawn into easy conversations.

"The house looks fabulous Cissy. Is this a chinese antique vase I see here?"

"Yes, Lucius was on a business trip when he found this."

"See, you should travel more Mr. Granger and bring me some goods."

"And you, Mrs. Granger needs to stay at home more and take care of goods." He mocked back.

I picked my cup of tea and savored the sweetness of it. Father always limited my sweets but not today I guessed. There were jars of candy that I believe came that morning from Honeydukes. I greedily drank the sight of them because obviously as long as I was in the present of Father I would never touch them.

"The sweets are … sweet." Said the shooting and smooth voice. It's hers. I never knew a 7 year old girl could sound like that. Duh! Of course it was sweet there's a reason why they were named sweet. I looked at her and surprised that the so-stupid statement was not directed at me but rather at my father on my left side.

"Yes, Draco here unfortunately has a knack for sweets." My father mockingly smirked without looking at me. She smile and gracefully stood up.

She walked toward the window that showed Mother's rose's garden and a small but elegant looking fountain. The sun hit her hair that turned into gold much like the color of our lake when sun was setting; the vision of her standing casually looking out from the window was weird. I mean I had never seen anything like it, or maybe it was my lack of vocabulary, I really had to pay attention to my lessons.

My father approached her and together they stood casually at window side, they were like something out of old painting. There a stern looking man yet so relaxed with sleek white blonde hair chatting nonchalantly with an approximately 7 year old sweet looking girl with golden wavy hair and white sundress and sandals. Sometimes I could hear her giggle of whatever it was my father had said and my father would smile adoringly, a smile that was supposed to be mine.

Before all the bad thoughts of what I could do to this Hermione overpowered me, a frightened looking house elf appeared. "Lunch is ready misters and missus."

Both the Malfoys and the Grangers headed to the dining room. Although the house was always beautiful, today I Mother must have ordered the House Elf to polish everything from the paintings to the chandeliers, they were all… shiny. These Grangers were special enough that mother's favorite dining set was out and placed in order on the dining table.

I listened to the conversation between the two mothers and strained my ear, if one could do that, to pay attention to Mr. Granger and my father's. Father said knowledge is power and it was times like these when someone could easily slip out a seemingly unimportant detail of very important information, so I had to pay attention, subtly of course.

I never realized that the youngest Granger was looking intensely at me until she purposely cleared her throat and dibbed her mouth with napkin.

"So Draco have any favorite past time?" she asked half whispering. I chewed and quickly push the meat down my throat that felt suddenly dry.

"I love quidditch." I said.

She smirked and drawled lazily, just like my father, "Aren't we all in love with it."

I sipped my pumpkin juice and tried to quash my sudden thirst. "Do you?" She didn't answer immediately, "I mean do you play?"

"I'd like to." She said casually while busy cutting her steak. "Just when no one's at home, which luckily happens very often. Isn't that the best time to corrupt the house?" Her body leaned towards me slightly and there was mischievous glint in her eyes that drew me in.

"Hermione!" Mrs. Granger's shriek destroyed the imaginative bubble around us and the former glimmer in her eyes dimmed considerably replaced by the cold yet innocent looking girl I saw in the parlor.

"Yes mother." She drawled like I would never be able to. "Careful_ dear_. We sure do not want your impoliteness ruin our appetite."

She smiled and sipped her tea calmly while her mother was getting red by her aloof act. "Of course mother. I didn't know you were eavesdropping our little tattling." Then she looked at her mother, no glared at her mother and shifted her gazed to my father, "Sorry can't help it."

I was surprised to hear my father sultry laugh at Hermione. Her mother seems at sudden ease as my father asked Hermione whether she had a quidditch field or not and my hunger vanished as the urge to leave became unbearable. I only wanted to lock myself up in my room and read the rest of the potion's book.

"I'm sorry father, may I be excused? I am done eating." I encourage myself to look directly at my father.

"Are you done sweetie? You didn't eat much? Not hungry?" My mother intercept the glaring match between my father and I. "No mother, I had a big brunch."

"Yes, I would love to look around Aunt Cissy's garden." Hermione gracefully folded her napkin and put it above her plates, like she didn't care if she was allowed or not. "You may be excused, Draco. And show little Hermione the garden instead, son."

I nodded and waited until Hermione stepped out of the dining room to hastily walk out. We enjoyed the beautiful sunset at the garden, without even talking I knew she was saving me back there. I was supposed to wait until my father had done eating _then_ silently excuse myself.

"Thank you." Her left eyebrow rose. "For saving me back there. I know you've seen this garden before."

"I think I'll do more of that from now on don't you think, Dre?" She smiled teasingly. Yeah_, I think so_. But all be damned If I ever said that out loud.

Her relaxed pose, the beautiful sunset and the scent of fresh grass really washed away my worry. She looked at me with those familiar glimmers in her deep brown eyes and suddenly I knew what I want. She stood up and twirled around and made her shoulder length hair bounce, "Don't worry I'll figure something out for the payback." With that she's twirled away giggling like the little girl she was.

When I was seven, if there had been someone to ask me what I wanted to be, I would've sheepishly smiled and said, "I want to be like my father." But while I recalled the garden, the fresh grass and her giggling I would've silently answered, "I want to be her."

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**Thanks to greyfanhp that beta-ed this piece of work. So tell me what do you think?  
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**-Abby**


	2. Chapter 2 part 1

**Thank you for reading I am so happy that so many people read this. To my first and second reviewer lollapalozzafanatic83 and Merme Cullen, I think you two have changed me into review-thirsty creature. I WANT MOOORREEEEE! So for every one out there who bother to read this AN you better review or I'll suck the story out of fanfiction systems! lol XD**

**The second chapter was divided into two, at first I was going to continue until the end but it sounds better if I cut it out. I want to update as soon as possible anyway, if I didn't cut it It probably need two or more days to go. This chapter show father-son bonding and not just ordinary father with ordinary son spend time together but this is Lucius and Draco Malfoy bonding time. So now you know how those Malfoy men show their affection to their child. And this is also Draco's first introduction to being a prat we all know and love.  
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**Almost forgot (and keep hoping that I would someday totally forget it) I don't own Harry Potter and their stuff except on occasionally event like maybe when I was dreaming?

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**chapter 2. part 1**

My father is a powerful man. Every time he entered the room there's this invisible tension and some people started whispering. I know he is a powerful man; he could be the minister of magic if he wants to, but he didn't. He said, "We are too powerful to do the dirty work, Draco." He is the kind of man who gives people Goosebumps and urge to immediately bow.

One day, before I met Crabbe and Goyle or Pansy, I was bored, I mean like really really bored. There's nothing new. I've done with the toys my mother gave me two weeks ago. And my friend's order hadn't come yet. So I thought maybe I could ask father to go to Diagon Alley, or where ever place I was allowed to go to buy new toy, with me. I scanned my room slowly, tried to find something new to add to my shelves. After a couple minutes of unsuccessful attempt of listing whatever it is I haven't had (cause obviously I have had everything, I guess), I decided to just go and buy whatever it is I would see and want.

The manor was empty. My mother went off to Paris earlier and house elf scattered around the manor was just not something tolerable. My footsteps echo_ed_ around the dim hallway which is if I ever take some time to closely inspect , it has never been bright. I always thought that I lived in some kind of haunting castle but Pansy said that my manor is cool so I supposed haunting-look must be the trend this year.

I spent one and half hour of wandering aimlessly around the three-story-mansion before I finally let out frustration cry and called Dobby to point me my father. It took another 10 minutes until Dobby and I reached the grand double door of my father's study. I had never been in this room before and mother told me to stay away from this door. Usually it was securely closed but today it was slightly ajar that I could see my father's shadow walk back and forth restlessly. I quickly hushed Dobby away and tried to calm myself. I lean my body carefully to take a peek at the gap between the doors. From where I stood I could see my father's back and two strangers whose look very anxious and nervous. The broad-brown-haired man sat casually leaning his body against the loveseat yet watched my father's every move like a hawk and the slightly plump pale looking one, squirmed on his seat and looked even paler as their argument was going and getting heated.

I looked at their surrounding, there are couples of scary looking hangings, you know, deer head and all that, there is also a painting but I was not sure of what, since I only saw half of it –or maybe quarter, I don't know. I was sure there is a fireplace somewhere inside because I could hear the fire cracking softly between three male hushed voice. And finally at the left side across from the door there is a bookshelves not just a normal bookshelves but the tallest bookshelves I've ever seen. The top almost reached the ceiling with a dark brown almost black wood and tons of books. I wonder if there any book about dragon in it.

I was too lost in my musing that I never realized the sound of argument had died and the strangers looked at me intensely. The board one was suddenly sat straighter and smirked suspiciously. To my horror, my father's back slowly turned to me and if I didn't lean on the door, I was sure that I would have been buckling under his gaze and the other men scrutinizing eyes. My father stared at me for a long time as I shakily took a step back from the door. The idea of ran away and locked myself up in my room was suddenly very tempting.

My father started walking toward me and opened the door wider, "Whatever it is gentleman, I think you have to wait, since my son here has some business… apparently."I took another step back until my back hit the wall behind me as the two strangers unwillingly wore their coat and go. But the brown hair hung back and look at me before he smile smugly, turned around and continue walking out. "Draco"

I looked back at my father fearing my next hours before mother got back from Paris. He gestured for me to come in. I shoved my hand to my trouser pocket hiding my clenched hand from my father's view as I hastily complied with my father's silent command. I sat at the vacant seat the previous strangers occupied and silently waited for my verdict. Since there was no door to block my view, I saw a soft red with some abstract motive carpet, other extraordinarily tall bookshelves beside the door and a big painting of Malfoy Manor view at night complete with my father's albino peacocks calmly drinking from the fountain. The manor looked glowing and I was sure there's a shadow of woman stand behind the window.

"What do you want, Draco?"Asked my father calmly as he sat behind his elegant ancient looking desk busy scribing something on his parchment.

I gulped and was willing my heart to slow down so that my voice wouldn't be as shaky as my knees, "I was wondering if you can come buy stuff with me, sir?"

"Stuff?" he put down his something-feathers quill and sighed, "What stuff, Draco?"

"I am not sure, sir." Upon looking his sharp gaze I tried to find more eloquent answer, "I mean I already has everything a boy could want, well except a real broomstick that is, but I still bored. Maybe If I can find some toy I won't bother you any longer than necessary." Still no respond, "And maybe a couple of books along the way." "Sir" I quickly added.

He leaned back on his chair and rubbed his chin, "How old are you, son?"

"I just turned 5 last June, sir." He nodded

"Already too bigger to play with stuffed animal and toy broomstick, have you?"

Honestly I didn't know what answer my father would want. I obviously leave my stuffed animal a couple of years ago but I didn't mind the toy broomstick since it was the closer thing I got to racing broomstick I once saw in Quidditch's book father had bought for me.

"I guess I am, sir."

"But I don't mind the toy broomstick really. It's not that bad."

"So you do not really want a real broomstick?" My father raised one eyebrow mockingly. I know this was tricky question. Still, knowing that it was a tricky question didn't help at all if you don't know what to answer.

"Mother said that I can't have a real broomstick until ten at least, sir." Apparently my answer had satisfied him and I settled back to observing his study.

"Good choice of answer even though you can't hide behind your mother all the time." I was not sure what my father meant by that. I started to fidget.

"Stop it, Draco." Said my father without even look up from his parchment, I instantly dropped my hand, didn't want to upset my father further.

I looked to my left to a big window with view of hills and forest that surrounded the manor. My room faced the backyard so I could see glimpse of glimmering lake at the end of horizon covered by tall trees, which turned brown at fall, here and there. But this window had the view I've never seen before. The forest that looked so scary, dark and high from the edge of it now looked like green cotton wadding. The tree leaves waving blown by the wind remind me of a meadow full of tall grass that I've dreamt of. Once again I lose in my thought that I never realized that the scrapping sounds of quill and parchment has stopped and my father had moved.

"We can't go to public places yet, Draco; it'll take special arrangement which can't be prepared by a blink of eyes." I bowed my head and slowly nodded even though I didn't understand why I can't go out of the manor. I was steeling myself to receive the dismissed note from my father which would mean other boring hours of alone in my room waiting for my mother when father moved to the window side and shoved his hand into his pocket pants.

"But today's weather is too nice to be spent inside the house, don't you think Dragon? What do you think about riding a pony?" I looked up quickly startled of the opportunity to spend some time with my father let alone riding together.

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"This is wonderful, father. I like it. Thank you very much." I was riding a black pony with white streak on its head side by side with my father. My father promised to buy me a bigger horse when I got bigger so I had to learn to ride from now on.

"Just thank you, Draco. Very much is unnecessary." He drawled as he watched me closely. I nodded and closed my eyes. The wind blew my blonde hair softly. My father was rather busy; the opportunity for me to have a father-son bonding like this was rare, so I tried to savor every second of it. I squirmed on my saddle; it was a little bit uncomfortable for me at first.

"How long had you been peeking on me, Draco?"

"Not very long, sir. I didn't hear anything too drawn to your bookshelves." I decided the best choice was to be honest. After a couple minutes of complete silence I dared myself to ask him about the strangers.

"Are they from work?"

"You could say so. One is my housemate from Hogwarts."This is nothing new for me. Sometimes my father's friends come to the Manor and during that time I usually locked up in my room or not allowed to play outside where ever the meeting was held. This was my first experience seeing them in person.

"They looked… distress." He chuckled. I could feel the heat creep to my cheek clear sign that I was blushing.

"They were. Tell me what else did you see?" I frowned, tried to recall their face.

"And they look frightened. You frightened them didn't you father?"

"I am, indeed." Then we looked at each other as I could see the proud just a moment before it disappeared and back to his you're-not-important-why-would-I-care look.

"What did you do that, father?" My curiosity beat my logic as I flinched slightly for my abruptness.

"When you are bigger, you'll learn that some power is very profitable to achieve your goal." The end of his mouth quivered like he was stifling a smile. I looked at him questioningly.

"It called the power of fear. Fear is one of things that work effectively on people Draco. You'll be surprised of what people could do because of fear."

"So you scare them so they'll do whatever you want?" I tried to swallow his word as fast as 5 year old brain allowed me to. But I thought I get what he was trying to say.

"Yes, for short, I did. You're fast, Draco."

"I am my father's son." I said proudly while puffed my chest. My chest was warm with pride because I could understand something that looks like to be important for my father. We spent the rest of the ride in silence, content with each other present.

My father is a powerful man. Every time he entered the room there's this invisible tension and some people started whispering. I know he is a powerful man; he could be the minister of magic if he wants to, but he didn't. He is content being a behind-the-scheme man because even Mr. Minister couldn't evoke the same reactions from the people as my father did. People groveling under his feet and happy to do anything to made my father happy.

But you know what? Now I knew someone as powerful as my father even more so.

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**So how is it? I don't think this is counted as a cliffhanger or is it?**

**Anyway Draco can't go to public places yet because Lucius have to make sure that Draco is presentable enough (meaning pureblood manner, attitude and stuff like that) for public to see. **

** Once again I'm sorry for any grammatical and spelling error I was too lazy to get a beta. Review guys!**

**-Abby**


	3. Chapter 2 part 2

**Hey, so this is the second part of the second chapter. I hope you get the message i was trying to tell from this part. **

**Thank you to anangelwithnoname and aridnie for reviewing. **

**For aridnie, English is not my first language but I'll try to make it better next time, maybe, when I'm in the mood to open some text book. lol. XD yep! We are going to Hogwarts next chapter, and we are going to meet certain green eyed boy! Until then... enjoy!**

**If I own Harry Potter, I would have made it into Dramione. heee... **

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Chapter 2 part 2**

That day was the usual kind of day. The sun didn't shine any brighter than any other day, the manor was just as empty as it usually was, and my friends and I were just doing the usual. We were sitting under a big tree, at the river side, picnicking, courtesy of Hermione.

Pansy were playing with her new doll, Vincent and Gregory were munching on their favorite pie, and Hermione was laying on the tree's trunk, which was quite accomplishment since she is a girl, with a thick book on her lap, an old looking journal, and her right hand reached for the cookies that Dobby made for us today.

While Hermione was willing to go through the fuss of going up there, I was perfectly content with leaning on the tree down here, where the gravitation could not hurt me because of the lack of control, day dreaming about the day when I would finally have my broomstick. I was nine, it's mean one more year, and I could go to Diagon Alley, with father maybe, to get it.

Why I was day dreaming, you ask? Because since Hermione come to our little group, the boys, Vincent and Gregory, decided that Dobby was just not worth of their time and prefer to spend time contently sat around her, either eating or trying to get Hermione to make more food.

Before you ask, yes, Hermione made them snacks, a special recipe she said. Since then I just couldn't get the boys away from her, especially lunch and tea time.

Pansy was never interested in our game before and happily accepted anyone who could reduce our hyperactivity during the day. To be honest, since she came, the toy broomstick was drastically lose its charm, so I dejectedly hanging around her, just like Vincent and Gregory, contently day dreaming about the upcoming year.

"What are you reading, Hermione?"

Pansy's shrill voice snapped me back to the earth.

"Nothing interesting." She drawled without looking up from her book, "Not for you, at least." She mumbled that I was sure no one hears it except me, who lay down directly under her favorite trunk.

Her eyes shifted to me and we smirked. That was one of the reason why I endured the boring day of sitting around at the river side, the secretive glance, as if we were sharing some private joke, was way too fun to be spoiled with Chasing-Dobby-game.

"What is it?"

I asked her as I yanked the soft grass beside me.

"My father's journal."

She mumbled loud enough for me to hear but too soft for Pansy and the boys to understand. I sighed.

The day ended when Parkinson's house elf suddenly appeared and nervously asked Pansy to come home. I didn't realize it was later than our usual play time, that the sun had begun settling and the lake had beautifully sparkled like thousand of diamonds. I grudgingly followed the boys retreating back while Pansy had gone straight home, after her house elf told her that she was expected at home.

I didn't realize Hermione had been closer than I thought she was, until I heard her whispered, right beside me.

"You know, you could always get it yourself."

I was too stunned to form any coherent respond. Not only she knew what I had been thinking all day, but also she suggested me to sneak out to Diagon alley and secretly bought a broomstick. She looked at my awestruck expression amusedly and chuckled.

"What do you think, Dre?" she asked again.

I shoved my hand into my pocket and stop walking as she faced me with those mischief brown eyes.

"But I totally understand if you can't do that."

The next day, well, let just say that I found myself flying with Hermione at the Granger's backyard. The wind caressed my face and toyed with my hair as I slowly flew, under Hermione's scrutinizing eyes. I didn't know she could fly before, until she insisted that I couldn't fly alone since this was my first time with a real broomstick. A burst of joy warmth my chess and before I knew it, Hermione and I, fell into a giggling fits.

I looked back at Hermione and surprised at how carefree she looked. Her face flushed with excitement and the usual smirk broke into a wide grin, which reminded me that she was a girl, a beautiful one at that. Her hair, turned golden by sunlight, fluttered behind her as she circled me, gracefully, with her newly polished broomstick.

That day was one of my top ten most memorable day of my life. Hermione Granger brought me the thing I want the most, and the adventures of course, you couldn't replace the flutter in your stomach as you ventured down to the most crowded place on England, on your own. Since that day, my relationship with her reached a turning point. Father's loving gesture for her didn't aggravate me as much anymore, I didn't grumble for the boys urge to stay around her or Pansy astounded ease with her, despite of her insecure nature, when I am myself, had fallen into her charm, fast and hard.

I never knew what charm she had been using on me, or what kind of power she had, that made everyone so obedient to her, even my father, all that I knew was, suddenly I didn't mind her in my room laying carelessly across my king size bed, making a mess with my dragon collection or the fact that she was the only one that ever ruffled my sacred hair, beside my parent.

_She was the one who bought me my first broomstick. And the fact that she was just a kid like me increased the plus point._

I said to myself every time the misplaced respect and admiration, for her, surfaced. Or every time I got so irritated, just because she was late for our picnic, and I got more infuriate because my over wariness over her.

Malfoy was not supposed to care if one did not show up or come late, but lately, her presence had made all Malfoy's heir training ended in vain. The only thing that assured me of my heritage was that it only happened for her. I realized, later in life, that I didn't feel the need to drag anyone down to the manor, whenever she/he was late, or the over gratitude I felt whenever I fly with my broomstick, on Pansy. So thank Merlin it's just one person thing, or else, I was forced to question whether I was really _the_ Lucius Malfoy's son.

But the story didn't end there. Hermione Granger did not just bring me to my broomstick, literally. She also deprived me of my broomstick, quite literally.

I was ten that day, it's been a week since my long awaited birthday, and I was freely flying above my quidditch field at the manor along with the boys, even though I won't admit it aloud, flying with Hermione has been way more fun than with the boys. But Hermione stubbornly decided to stay down with Pansy. She insisted that I played with her, but of course I couldn't skip the opportunity to show off my flying skill to my father, as far as he knew, I was a one week old flier. Not even mother could repress my excitement. But Hermione, not so surprisingly, found a way.

"Draco, you really can't stay on the ground, can you?"

I nodded and giggled as my mother huffed while my father didn't even spare a glance at me, contently sat across my mother, reading a copy of Daily Prophet.

I saw Pansy rambling about her new dress and ribbon, her life essence, at Hermione, who looked sincerely interested in whatever Pansy's been talking about, she even nodded and added some comment here and there while Pansy twirled in front of her.

I sped away to the boys, they were attempting to play catch on the broomstick when they couldn't even aim on the ground, and eagerly join in. Not for so long though, it didn't take long time for Vincent to get hungry, _again_. I skim around my mother flowery bushes, high enough not to crash at it, when Hermione approached me with a scowl.

"Draco Malfoy." Uh oh. Never in my entire 3 and half years of friendship, had she ever called me by my full name. "You really can't hold your excitement and _stay_ on the ground can you?" she asked sweetly but I was too observant to be fooled by her.

I immediately sped higher and warmly welcomed by a rush of wind, which almost dropped me off of my broomstick. I was a natural, fortunately, as my father would proudly said many times to mother, who felt the obligation to made a fuss every time she catch me with a broomstick. Nothing, I mean nothing would separate me and my broomstick, not even a rush of wind.

I rather feel than heard someone approaching, with a broomstick obviously, behind my back. I turned to the said someone and found Hermione, gracefully perched on top of a broomstick, one that I was sure not Hermione's. I raised my eyebrow, tried to hide the sudden lifted spirit that came along with Hermione.

"You are really leaving me with those... those…"

I watched as her face scrunch up like she smelt something revolting, with glee.

Couple of giggle erupted at my failing attempt to hold my amusement to myself. But it was too late, she saw it and seek for revenge as she circled me. She flew toward me and at the very last moment, the moment when others would expect us to crash; she turned away slightly, so that only her hair hit my shoulder.

I excitedly follow her lead and soon we started a dance, on the air, that includes us, trying to crash to each other without actually crashing. I was too immersed that all I heard were swishing sounds and our giggles. Hermione stopped at the middle of the game and I vigorously charged at her, full speed. I neither notice her smirked nor her mischievous face as I charged at her with in full speed, a couple inches to the left I would have been crashed into her.

"I'll see you on the ground." I heard her whisper as I approached her broom, "Draco Malfoy."

To my utter horror, she pushed herself off of the broom, with a smirk that put my father's into shame, just when I passed her right shoulder. I immediately turn round and saw or rather awestruck, at Hermione's falling body, as my mother shrieked, the boys jaw hanging open, Pansy clasped her hand tightly on her eyes, so she wouldn't have to endure the dread of seeing the inevitable and father whipped out his wand, pointed it to Hermione's falling form, with an angry looks.

The rest of the day was a blur of father's icy glare and mother's distress shout. Pansy, Vincent and Gregory were out of the manor as soon as father got Hermione's limp body inside the manor and mother floo-ed to St. Mungo to get Malfoy's private healer. Mr. Granger was notified immediately since Mrs. Granger was out of reach. I heard rather than saw, Mr. Granger's arrival, from the noise of his hasty footsteps and my father's cool explanation of what had happened, earlier that day.

She burst into tears as soon as she laid her eyes upon my father. She was sorry that his broomstick might get scratched from her fall. Somewhere in the middle of her teary statement about how careless she was, I felt like an ice had been dropped into my spine, that was my father's broomstick, that was why I didn't recognize it sooner, because I never seen his broom before today.

"I believed my son..." my father turn to me, sneering. "Draco here has the full blame of what happened today."

I gulped rather loudly and unconsciously step back. I was going to tell father that I did not even touched her up there, but she beat me to it.

"It's not Draco's fault, uncle Lucy. _I_ pushed myself off."

Everyone in the room, include me, was shocked. I didn't think that she was going to confessed.

"Why, in the name of Merlin, were you doing that?"

Mr. Granger asked as he leaned his body toward Hermione.

No one dared to spook as Hermione wiped her tears off her face, "I want to play with Draco, but I guess my flying skill was not that good." She said between hiccups.

"Draco was always flying around and left me alone. We used to sat and play together." She peered shyly. "With others kid too. You know Pansy, Vincent and Gregory. But since he got his brooms, he never played with me again. So I thought I went with him but apparently my skill was not good enough for me, not to panicked when Draco speeding towards me."

I looked around the room and franticly trying to catch my father's eyes. Hermione was superb on broom. After all, she was my unofficial flying teacher. But I couldn't very well blurt it out loud, could I? My father would know that I had been sneaking out and bought a broom without my mother's permission.

"I was so foolishly forgot that I was high up in the air and I kind of threw myself away from Draco's path. I am really sorry, Uncle, don't punish Draco please."

Of course, father did. At the end of the day, my broom was confiscated by my father.

"It's been a week since you have your broom. Tell me who bought you the broom? And who fell because of the owner of said broom?" That was exactly what my father said after Mr. Granger gone back to the Granger's household with Hermione at his hips.

My broom was confiscated forever.

"I don't care what you are doing with it when you are at school soon, but as long as you are at the manor, it's going to be securely stored in my study."

I was a natural flier, as my father often said, nothing could separate me with my broom, not even a rush of wind. But then again, we were not talking about a mere wind, it was _the_ Hermione Granger, of course she found a way. Even if it was by dropping herself from broom.

Lesson of the day, do not messed with Hermione Granger. At age seven she could make the ever cold and scary Malfoy's patriarch laugh. At age eight she could manipulate her friends into doing anything she want. At age ten, she secretly went to Diagon Alley and bought Draco Malfoy his first broomstick. And at the age of eleven, she had the control to deprive him of his precious broomstick because she wanted him to be on the ground, with her.

If I knew someone as powerful as my father, even more so, it would be Hermione Granger.

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**So now we now how is my hermione in this story. Next chapter: Hogwarts express! **

**Remember review-thirsty creature here... I am a little bit upset about the amount of review considering that I know how many of you had read my story. Really... mood killer.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hey there, I know there's a long delay between this chapter and the previous one, but things with my life and school got severely in the way and i forgot in between, as my beta said. So go on! I just get out and write my tattles at the end of the story.**

**Disclaimer Not mine. And definitely not yours either.**

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Chapter 3**

They say all parent love their child, they just had different way of showing it. My parent was arguing, one day, late at night, when they thought that I've gone to sleep. It was about me, it was because of me, even though Dobby said it was not.

I was sneaking out of my room, I was barely turn 11 at that time, too excited to be asleep. I could see the light seeping through the door gap, and heard whispering, at first; I was, after a couple of minutes, able to hear my mother high tone and father's dismissive voice. I was going to walk back to my rooms, my instinct told me that it was not the best night to be caught wandering out late at night, when my mother's angry voices penetrated the thick wall of the parlor, to my little ear. That night I spent with my parent's voices playing out, in my mind, over and over again.

At the morning, I thought all the fight were finished, but when an unknown owl scooped in and landed in front of me with the long awaited letter from Hogwarts, I could sense the air getting heavier. I observed my father, who busying himself with a copy of Daily Prophet, and my mother, who keep throwing glances at my father, as I nibbled on my toast.

Hermione said that it was my own mistake that I've heard what I should've not. Pansy assured that it was normal; every parent had fight, sometimes. And I didn't bother whatever Vincent and Gregory said, they helped me forget though, such a friend they were.

I bought my school's need that day anyway. Mother ushered me to get ready for shopping, as soon as I finished my milk, and father has already gone. I was struggling with my jacket left's sleeve when a pale hand shot and grabbed my shoulder. I could feel my jacket being pulled and I could slip my left hand easier.

"Ready to go?" I whipped my head, so fast that I might have dislocated it, and found myself looking at my father tall figure. He was wearing his black cloak when Dobby came brought his cane.

"Is your mother ready?"

I was so speechless that I didn't answer my father. I didn't even realize when my mother come and smothered me. By then my eyes were wide like a saucer and my jaw was slightly open.

"Draco?" my mother called, she held my father right hand and was giving me a warning look. "Are you coming?"

I looked down and was slightly ashamed that my parent caught me looking like a deer. I nodded, haven't found my voice yet.

"Son?" my father peered at me from his left shoulder and bent his left arm, so I could take it. I hurriedly walk toward them, took my father left hand and soon felt the churning sensation of apparition.

The thought of my parent fighting about me, didn't placate my mind anymore.

* * *

"Your father came."

Was all Hermione said as we stepped out of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor as I tried to locate the Quidditch's store I saw earlier. My sense of direction had not improved yet by the look of it, or it was just the Diagon Alley being overcrowded today.

"Yes." I stood on my toe hoping to see the store so I could steal some time to revisit the outmost magnificent nimbus 2000, before I have to meet my mother at Ollivander's. "He did."

Today was warm with slight breeze, as it was almost the end of summer and fall was vastly approaching, Hermione was wearing a white coat, which reached her knee, on top of a v neck blue dress with a corset-like on her waist, which was the same length with her jacket, while I wore my favorite vast underneath my warm black cloaks.

I was just finished with my Hogwarts robe at Madam Malkin and Hermione was, as could be expected, just finished her raid at Flourish & Blotts. Our parents were supposed to be around but they thought it would be better to shop in separate way.

"It is faster this way; otherwise we could spend all day."

My mother said, as soon as we withdraw our money from Gringotts and she was done checking my cloak.

"Have you met Harry Potter?"

All I could say was a weak 'who?' as my mind occupied with other more important matter, like finding the Quality Quidditch Supplies. Hermione jerked her hand, which somehow was in my hand, and pouted. I had no choice other than stop walking and turn to face her. My eyebrow automatically shot while mouthing a 'what'.

"Did you talk to Harry potter? Scrawny, black messy hair, glasses." Upon seeing my incredulous look she continued. "I saw he enter Madam Malkin sometime after you."

Believe her to spy on people and actually now when the said people entered a shop. How did she saw his entrance anyway? She was at Flourish and Blotts far before I got to Madam Malkin. I almost, almost being the key word here, pray for this Harry Potter. Where the bloody shop anyway?

She sighed and turned to walk to the opposite way. And of course believe Hermione to made me gave up on brooms, as she seems to do a lot started from when she 'confiscated' my broom, and actually whipped my mind cleaned from anything quidditch-like, to focused only on catching up with her, as I didn't want to be caught lost or rather, be accused of letting her lost. That could only end up in disaster. Though the idea of Hermione getting lost in Diagon Alley was rather impossible, as she was the girl who brought me to my first broom, I didn't want to take any chances with her, anything is possible with her.

As you could already guess, Hermione was and still is my father's favorite. So I could practically see my father's disappointed face, complete with his trademark scowl, as I tried my hardest to catch up with her. For a girl, she was, surprisingly, fast, like at this moment I almost lost her, even though she was just walking. I blame it on the crowd.

"Hermione!" I shouted her name, hoping that she heard the plea behind it. "Hershey."

She stopped. I know she would stop, she didn't like that name very much. The name was practically etched on my mind since Vincent had brought the chocolate to the manor. It was good, no, scratch that, it was great. The chocolate melted in my mouth as soon as it touched my tongue and there was a bit of bitter that matched rather well with the sweet, made it better than other sweet I've ever had, considered it muggle's invention. Beside, the 'almost' same sounding, Hermione was just like Hershey, they both made me feel better, instantly. Not that I would ever, ever, admit it aloud.

"Don't call me that." She hissed, "Not in public."

I couldn't help but smile at her discomfort, it was rarely shown. Hermione was either calm or indifferent, much like my father. I was, sometime, wondering where the similarity came from, but the thought was already gone as fast as it came.

"Where are we going?" I said as I step beside her, despite my long legs and her short figure, I still had difficult time to keep up with her whenever she's mad.

"_I _am going to get my wand." She answered without shifting her gaze from the street.

* * *

Before I knew it, 1st September was already come and I had to go to King's Cross. I was welcomed with steam and chatter, as soon as I step across the platform between nine and ten in King's Cross. I heard about Hogwarts Express before, so unlike other first years who was beyond excited, I refrained myself from jumping around with delight, since my father was less than 5 feet behind me.

Platform 9 ¾ was filled with magical children, and their family, bearing enormous trunk and cage owl. Hello, How's your summer, and take care could be heard everywhere. My father calmly walked toward the train, with my stuff trained behind him, levitated. I stayed with my mother and tried to find a golden brown hair girl.

It was fruitless. I caught Crabbe and Goyle, smirked to Pansy along the way, and was introduced to Blaize Zabini. But I hadn't seen her until it was time to board the train, it was impossible for her to missed the day she got free from her house.

"Now, now, Draco, time to go. Remember you still come home at Christmas and Easter." Said my mother as she smothered my collar and ruffled my hair. Her voice was slightly quivered but her face remained strong, though I thought I saw unshed tears. I tugged my mother sleeves and smile reassuringly.

"Off you go, son. Make me proud." My father said and squeezed my shoulder a little bit. We shake hands and exchange a nod.

From around me, children hugging and parents tearing at the sight of their children's back, but still, I didn't find her. I scanned the platform once more before I board the train and searched my compartment. It must have been at the front just as my father said. Gregory and Vince joined me in the way, we shared some hellos, but after that, they content to silently follow me. I knew not to ask them about Hermione whereabouts, which would be a waste of time.

I passed compartments full of Hufflepuff, seven years boy, seven year girl, and when I encountered an empty compartment among the full others, I knew that's mine.

"I thought you'd never come, Draco." Said the very girl I've been looking for since my first minute at platform 9 ¾.

She looked so happy, there was tinge of pink on her already rosy cheek and her eyes sparkled with amusement. I've never seen her so happy before, exhilarated yes, but not happy. So happy, that she seemed to be bouncing on her seat. She wore a purple lacy dress that reached just above her knees with a white stocking and matching purple shoes. She looked… nice, especially with a purple ribbon around her half up half down golden hair.

She patted the seat next to her as I realized that she was not alone. Sat across from her was the scrawny, messy looking boy I've met at Madam Malkin. I looked over him. He looked… as messy as I last seen him. His black hair was messy like he was just waking up from a nightmare, his attire didn't fit and worn-looking. He screamed fragile, with his glasses and frail figure, but looking into his eyes I could find an awkward boy with determination.

"Oh, Dre meet Harry Potter. Harry meets Draco Malfoy, my ever loving best friend." My left eyebrow instantly shot and I looked at her mockingly, though my mouth was itching to smile. She never called me her best friend before at least not to others.

The thought that a Harry Potter sat across of me came just after I recovered from a Hermione-called-me-her-best-friend-aftershock. So this was the boy my father had been fussing about. I didn't recognize him sooner because of his messy hair cover his scar. At least he was not walking around parading his scar for the world to see. I nodded a little at him, though I doubt he knew what it meant.

After that Hermione introduced him to Gregory and Vincent. I never met this chatty Hermione for all of my 11 years life. She was always the listener, the observer one. Her hand moved as she excitedly explained Chocolate Frog to Harry.

Just before her smile get on my nerve, Pansy came.

"You better change, Hogwarts is thirty minutes away." She smiled at me and moved to invade my seat so she could tell Hermione about the latest gossip.

I grudgingly moved and gestured the boy to go out. We changed into Hogwarts robe and walked back to our compartment. Harry was quiet the whole time. Hermione was on her way to wear her robe and I helped her fastened it when I notice a rather large bruise on her knees.

"You're bruising." She looked at her knees and checked on it. "When is it?"

She shrugged, "Must be from my fall this morning." I stared at her in disbelieve. There was only one way Hermione Granger could fall; it was because she made herself fall, just like my broom incident, or this bright and cheerful girl was not Hermione. Why did she do that for this time?

Suddenly Harry looked down in shame and there's tinge of pink on his cheek. He blushed. I frowned, trying to make the connection between Hermione's fall and Potter's blush.

"You, of all people, fall? On what occasion?" I crossed my arm over my chest.

She smirked and looked at me mischievously, "Oh, there was just this boy _accidentally_ knocked me over. And Harry here came and save the day." She finished her story cheerily and, astonishingly, clapped.

I nodded, didn't want to think about her unusual behavior yet, "Just made sure to ask for bruise salve from uncle Sev."

I leaned my back on the seat but then I recalled that she didn't have close relationship with Uncle Sev, at least not as close as me, since he is my Godfather. "Or do you rather have me ask?"

Her smile was getting brighter, "You're the best!"

I nodded. I better approached Uncle Sev before the welcoming feast over and the first year was to follow their respective house.

I felt Hogwarts Express getting slower before finally jilted into a stop. I fall into step beside her while Potter was on the other side, looked a little bit pale but composed nonetheless. With Goyle and Crabbe followed closely in front of us, clearing out the way as Hermione whispered, we joined the queue of the other kids that were practically jostling to get out of the train.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here," Hagrid, the oaf of a gamekeeper, beamed over the sea of heads. "All right there, Harry?"

Hermione looked over Potter with an amused expression, not that the others could see it, since it was pitch dark and cold; the other kids were shivering and rubbing their hands together, trying hopelessly to create some warmth.

"C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Hermione could be easily mistaken as skipping while the rest of the first years were slipping and stumbling, including me. Vincent was grumbling and grunting, by the time we arrived at the edge of the great black lake.

There was a loud "ooohh!"

Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. I was sure that my first image of Hogwarts at night with its glory would always sewed in my mind and become the first reason for me to feel gratitude to my parents approval of Hogwarts instead of shipping me off to Drumstrang.

Hermione's face was glowing as the light from Hagrid's lamp fell upon her. Her eyes softened and I could tell that she was just as awestricken as the rest of us, except that she didn't let her jaw hanging open or even let a small gasp escaped from her lips. Neither did Potter. I could feel his excitement but fortunately, he didn't bouncing or blubbering around about how beautiful the castle was, I started to like him.

I and Hermione walked, carefully, into one of the small boats at the shore, followed by Potter and Pansy while Vincent and Gregory were in the boat beside me. At Hagrid's command –"FORWARD!" – the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over us as we sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

I offered my hand to her, whom she took impassively, when the boat reached some kind of underground harbor and I had shakily clambered out onto pebbles and rocks. She dusted her robe from invisible dust and walked beside me while peeking behind her shoulder, once or twice, smiling to Potter.

The big oaf, Hagrid, Hogwarts' gamekeeper, took us to a huge oak front door. Hagrid was talking to a tall, black-haired witch in Emerald-green robes, who from her stern face I knew as McGonagall, the Transfiguration's professor.

She led us through a big entrance hall, as big as father's study if I dare say but with a higher ceiling, a marble staircase, across the flagged stone floor, into a small, empty chamber off the hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarted yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."Her eyes lingered on a moment at a boy who clutched a toad on his chest, so hard that looked like it was going to burst at any moment.

"I will return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall.

"Please wait quietly."

Just as Professor McGonagall's robe disappeared into the door, whisper erupted. Everyone was anxious about what house they were going to, and how the sorting conducted, though mostly was mudblood and some lowly half-blood, since the children with magical background would probably had been told by their relative.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Potter's voice screamed 'nervous' in my ears.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Said another shaky voice.

I turned around and found a Weasley comfortably stood beside Potter and Zabini. Though how did he manage to stand so, uncomfortably, close to me, I never knew. I snorted, rather unconsciously, and cross my hands over my chest.

"The year has not even started, already trying to spread your Weasel-ness, weasel?" I said, rather mockingly, and shot my eyebrows, inspecting his red hair, freckled face and a hand-me-down robe, that a bit short for him.

His face turned as red as his hair, "It's Weasley." He murmured.

"Not everyone wants to be a red hair, freckle and a breed machine human, you know?"I said, with a snicker and smirk, and turned my back on him, trusting Gregory to keep any fad hand away.

Hermione pulled Potter to her side, smiled reassuringly and whispering, the answer of his question I believe. He looked relieved, though sometimes his eyes would dart off and looked around.

We walked in two straight lines, Hermione and Potter was behind me while Pansy solemnly walked beside me. We went into a large, fairytale-ish looking room, with thousand of floating candle and an enchanted ceiling. I looked around in wonder, drank all the magic that my father told me, when I was a kid. There were many faces that held curiosity looked back at me. I curtly nodded at some of my father acquaintance's children, which I've met at some ball or ministry agenda.

As my father's story, there were four long and big wooden tables, which reflected each houses in Hogwarts and there was another long table at the top of the hall, the teacher table. At the center of the table was an old, wrinkled professor with a half moon spectacle and a long white beard. Professor Dumbledore, a crazy old coot, as my father often carelessly called him, the very Headmaster of Hogwarts.

One by one, the first year called and sorted. Hermione was gone to Slytherin, no surprise, with a wave to Potter. I shot my eyebrows in disbelieve, I was sure that this people have just met for hours yet Potter had managed to make Hermione act all girly and happy. There was something fishy; Hermione wouldn't just smile to stranger, would she? Or is it just me that see the cold and calculating side of her? Which one is Hermione?

I rubbed my forehead, hoping that it would help the headache that slowly came. In no time, it was my turn to be sorted. The hat screamed, 'Slytherin' before it even touched my head. I walked as normal as I could, because I felt like jumping and skipping, and sat at the vacate seat that Hermione had been saving for me.

"You were too happy to be Hermione today, weren't you? Feels like telling me something?" I asked. My voice was barely heard over the Sorting hat's scream and hundreds of clap. She didn't even look at me; all she did was smirked and clapped.

"Oh, hush. It's Harry's turn."She said.

Everybody was whispering when Professor McGonagall called for Potter. For a moment there, I pitied him. He looked so lost up there. When it was getting longer than the usual, Hermione started to squirm on her seat, and I started to think, 'bloody hell, she's just squirming.'

I turned and took my time, assessing her. Even though it would just plain weird, you know. She was wearing her crème hair band with something sparkling on it, I guess, and there was just a glow coming from her face when suddenly the hat screamed 'Slytherin'. My first thought was to put the candles on blame. Weird, is it just me or she was really glowing today?

Wait a minute.

Did I just hear the hat put Potter in Slytherin? Or is it just me being out for the entire day? Why, in Salazar's name, would the hat put Potter, the savior of the world, the epitome of light, in Slytherin, the house of pureblood and the outmost symbol of 'dark'? He's not even pureblood.

I whipped my head back to the sorting ceremony while Hermione was actively radiating joy. The hall was deadly quiet, by now; Potter shakily put the hat back and walked, as fast as his short legs could. I heard Hermione started to clap and a second later my housemate followed her lead. No matter who he is, Slytherin unite was the most important and unfortunately this scrawny little boy is a Slytherin.

He sat across from me and sighed, his face was no longer show the nervous lost little boy I saw on the dais but his shoulder still tightened, sign that he knew something was wrong and anxious to get this feast over with.

After Zabini was sorted, he was in Slytherin; Professor Dumbledore stood and opened his arm. His face was full of joy, but I could tell that the Slytherin Harry Potter was not what he expected, his eyes kept glancing at the Slytherin table, like he was waiting for Potter to suddenly change into the Dark Lord. I knew all the fuss about the Dark Lord, it was not my mother's favorite subject but I still heard little tattles from my father at some rare time.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! "Thank you!" He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered.

"Is he - a bit mad." he asked Daphne Greengrass, who was sitting right next to him.

"I believe the word is, um, what is those _muggles_ loved to say?" a tall black boy with a high cheekbones, two seats from Potter, intercepted.

"Mentally retarded." Daphne said as she lifted her drink

He smirked and chuckled, "There you go." He lifted his own drink, "cheers. Blaise Zabini, everyone, pleased to be your acquaintance."

I snickered. I remembered a Zabini, once, a tall enchantress with a rare power to kill her husband within days after the marriage, left her with rather big fortune. Even on his eleventh year, he was already as charming as his mother could be.

His eyes darted quickly from Greengrass to me, "Malfoy."

He nodded and lifted his goblet. I nodded back and turn to the food that had suddenly appeared while Zabini greeted Hermione. The feast was bigger than I used to have at the Manor. Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

I piled my plate with some roast potatoes, roast beef and carrots, as I felt an icy present right next to me. A gaunt looking and blood stained robe ghost has appeared between me and Gregory. While Gregory continued eating like nothing happened, I was losing my appetite.

The Bloody Baron, as my mother told, was really a disturbing ghost, unlike Peeves that agitated everyone near him by his Poltergeist-ness, the Slytherin's ghost was chilling because of his gaunt staring eyes and blood stained robe.

He didn't say anything; he stared at the wall above Potter's head all the times. When he caught me staring he just nodded and continues to stare at the wall.

The conversation around the table was changing from the professor in high table to their summer as the foods faded and blocks of ice creams, pies, chocolate and many sweets appeared. I noticed Hermione keep encouraged Potter to take whatever it was that he liked. Though, it appeared normal, I knew better. I get her strawberries and apple pies before Vincent and Gregory could put their fat hands on it while she was conversing with a third year.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.  
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Pansy chuckled softly.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year; the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." Potter laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious." he muttered to Hermione.

She smirked, "is he, now?" upon seeing Potter's blanched face, she giggled, "Our dorm was far from there, there was no chance you could get lost to the third corridor on the way home."

"Unless someone make you," she murmured the last part softly, I was sure that I was not supposed to hear it.

We looked to each other, her eyes, glinting with mischief and amusement, told me that she knew that I've been eavesdropping. I, unwillingly, peeled my eyes off of her as Professor Dumbledore started flicking his wand, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, twisted and turned into words. I noticed many grimace and grumble from the upper year of Slytherin, and the teacher smile was rather fake.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed: "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, Teach us something please, Whether we be old and bald Or young with scabby knees, Our heads could do with filling With some interesting stuff, For now they're bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff, So teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we've forgot, just do your best, we'll do the rest, And learn until our brains all rot.

Everybody finished the song at different times. After that we followed the perfects, whom I forgot the name, to the dungeons. We stopped by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall. The perfects turned around and wave, "This particular spot, mind the wall, is The Slytherin dorms. The password is Felix Felicis and will changes sometimes in the middle of the term." A stone door concealed in the wall slid open as he said the password and we marched through it.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherin were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs. It feels homey in a strange way.

Professor Snape glided in through a hidden door that I didn't notice before, his robe billowing behind him. He stopped in front of us and looked at us one by one, though I noticed his eyes lingered a moment longer on Potter and there was something resembling disgust and fury in his eyes.

"Welcome to Slytherin, the house of Salazar Slytherin and those who ambitious and cunning." His voice was like whisper yet we all could hear it just fine.

"There are certain rules that I, as your head house, expect you to obey. I expect you to try your hardest to claim the house cup as your better had done in previous years." He paused and moved a bit to the right.

"Second, I don't care whatever happened in the common room, it stayed here. As you step out of that door, you are Slytherin and Slytherin stick to each other. I don't want to hear anyone fighting outside the common rooms. Do you understand?"

Murmur of 'yes sir' filled the common rooms and Professor Snape nodded, "Feel free to ask for help to the upper year, Pucey here and Cassandra Rosier, is your perfects, use them. And if they can't help, find me.

"The last and the most important of all, Slytherin doesn't get caught. I don't care what you are doing after curfew, or where, as long as you are not caught by the other perfects."

After Snape made sure that everyone was intact, don't ask me why, he sent us to bed. The Slytherin dorms were bigger than the other houses. There are three first year in a room, but it would be just two in each room after 3rd years. I was with Blaize Zabini and Harry Potter, who was practically ordered to move by Hermione, indirectly, to my room, and Vincent happily complied.

As I settled in my blanket I remembered that I haven't asked for a bruise salve from Uncle Sev. I guess I had to do it tomorrow then. My lids were dropping when I remembered something was amiss. It was something to do with Hermione, but I couldn't remember what. I couldn't resist the sleep that had been hanging over just at the edge of my consciousness, and with a sigh I let myself be claimed by the night. I never remember about anything weird in Hermione that I, previously, found strange. All I remember was my father's stern voice a day before my departure to Hogwarts.

"Be friend Harry Potter, son, you'll do him a great favor." He sipped his coffee, "and me, to some extent."

* * *

**So that is. Longer than usual, and the longest chapter I've ever wrote, because I just felt guilty that I've abandoned this story for my school. First, I am sorry for any grammatical and spelling mistake, I didn't have time to check it over because it was late at night when I finished this and tomorrow I have to go to some place, which is not important. There's a lot of pieces that I've take directly from the book like dumbledore welcoming speech and some of Harry's dialogue.**

**It was Draco POV so there's things that he didn't notice because it was as normal as walking in the park for him (unlike Harry that pay attention to even the smallest form of magic and was asking many things in the books). His mind was mainly focused on Hermione's attitude changing, which he forgot as soon as his head hit the pillow, and the fact that she had Harry Potter beside her, chatting amiably like an old friends. And in this chapter we saw the obsessed over Quidditch side of Draco and Hermione that, somehow, know everything. Now we get some light on how relationship between young Malfoy and Hermione was going. How Draco always able to look beyond Hermione's mask yet can't really grasp whatever inside her head. **

**Tell me what else you got from this chapter and what do you think. Feel free to share your opinion on what you want to happen next or how thing should be. Be gentle, mind you, I am a young writer. hee..**

**And don't think I didn't notice the lack of review! **


	5. Author's note

**Hey I'm sorry but I'm not going to post any new chapter for awhile since I need to get the previous chapter beta-ed and school was being… school. So I'm really sorry if you keep getting a useless email from fanfics, that's just me, posting the first four chapter.  
**

**-Abby  
**


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